Resident Evil: Omega
by JB Stone
Summary: The first chapter in the final Resident Evil story


Resident Evil:  
Omega  
  
One  
  
Rain had fallen an hour or so ago, and the street was wet. Claire watched each car that passed cautiously; She didn't need another shower. Especially since she had already spent two solid hours perfecting her look. Just enough shampoo, just enough conditioner, the right amount of makeup and perfume. Ah, she thought, the pangs of being a woman.   
Only a few more blocks, she thought, and then she'd be there. Her feet hadn't been in those damn heels long enough to hurt yet, but the 10 block walk wasn't comfortable by any means. One more block, she almost said aloud, one more block.   
Clair Redfield was a warrior. The high heel aches began to set in as she made her way up the three steps in front of Joe Romel's apartment building, and her feet were wet, making her pantyhose cling to her legs. But she managed the charming and friendly voice that had first attracted Joe to her, as she buzzed his apartment.  
"It's Claire!" She said thru a smile. Not a real smile, but a smile anyway.   
"Hold up a sec," She heard from the speaker, followed by a loud buzz, and the voice again, "Ok, it's open!"  
Despite his occupation, Joe Romel lived in a dump. The entry hall to the apartments was dingy to say the least. The bronze mailboxes had rusted heavily, and some of the names were worn beyond unreadable. As a matter of fact, she couldn't find Joe's name on any of the little bronze doors. And the staircase! She thought. Even those wonder-cleaners on the infomercials couldn't save this staircase!   
She finally made her way to his third floor apartment. The hall was lined with doors-and cobwebs-and a couple dim light bulbs hung from each end of the ceiling. Claire tried not to shake her head, but the surroundings compared to the man, well, that required a gesture of some sort!  
Her faint knock was barely audible, and she began to knock again when Joe opened the door.   
"What's up, miss?" Joe said, smiling. That smile was like fresh sunshine to Claire.  
"Not much, sunshine." She couldn't help herself, "How bout letting a girl in out of the cold?"   
Joe extended his arm and waved it back in an inviting manner. As Claire past him, the smell of her perfume entered his nose. It smelled wonderful! Joe had to restrain himself from grabbing the beautiful girl and kissing her till' the sun came up!  
  
After a great dinner of Veal Marsala and white wine, the young couple sat quietly, one afraid to say something that might jepordize the situation, while the other afraid to say something that might move the situation along too quickly.....for her liking.  
"I'm sorry about the...." Joe waived his finger around. "Surroundings."  
"Oh," Claire lied. "It's ok. I'm sure you can't think up a best-seller in a week, can you?"  
"Oh, it's not that!" He laughed. "I have an apartment on the west side. It's a lot nicer, trust me."  
Claire squinted, "So.....what are we doing here?"   
"Well, this was my first apartment, and it really helps my writing to come here. Nostalgia, and all."  
"Wow. I thought sales were down or something!" The two laughed.  
Joe sat, thoughtfully fingering his wine glass, and said "How long has it been?"  
Claire said, cocking her head sideways in curiosity, "Since what?"  
"Since.....Since the thing in Paris?"   
Clair almost jumped out of her seat. "What?"  
"The incident in Paris, Claire. How long ago was that?" Joe lightly pressed.  
"What do you know about that?" She said, looking down at the table. Claire was instantly uncomfortable. "How do you know about that?"   
Joe noticed her discomfort, but he had to press on. "I know a little. And I'd like to know a little more."  
Claire's mouth dropped. She began mentally questioning the man's intentions, but an instant later she realized what was going on. "Oh, so you-" She stuttered, "All this- Is just about getting a story?"  
"No, no! It's not like that!" Joe said, noting his error.  
"Bullshit! You brought me here to wine and dine me, and get a fucking story from me? You're an asshole!" With that, Claire stood and walked to the door.   
"Wait! Claire!" Joe jumped from his seat and ran after her. He jumped in front of her, blocking the door. "Wait a second, Claire! It's not like that, you have to know that."  
"Oh, and how am I supposed to believe you? The newspapers, the publishers, they did shit like this! But not like this!" She swung her arm in the direction of the dinner table.   
"No, Claire, I like you! I like you a lot! I was just making conversation! I promise, your story isn't going anywhere. Hell, you don't even have to tell me about it. Just----please, don't leave. Joe said softly, still spread out on the door.  
Claire's head dropped. She kicked her foot at an imaginary can, and looked back at the handsome man that had swept her off her feet.   
"I-I have to go." She said.   
"Ok." Joe said even softer. "I understand." He walked away from the door.   
Claire opened the lock and pulled the wooden door open. She took a step or two out into the hall, and turned. "Why'd you have to go and be a writer?" With that, she slowly pulled the door closed. Joe stood silent for a moment. Actually, a few moments, staring at the door. I just let the woman of my dreams walk out that door, he thought.   



End file.
